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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613570">your skin makes me cry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/restlessoceans/pseuds/eggsoodeux'>eggsoodeux (restlessoceans)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>EXO (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Painplay, Piercings, Pining, Praise Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:32:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/restlessoceans/pseuds/eggsoodeux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The other members probably don’t stare at Kyungsoo’s earlobes to notice such a thing. Or stare at Kyungsoo to the degree that Chanyeol does. Which is a perfectly normal amount, Chanyeol would argue, for someone who cares about his best friend.</p>
</blockquote>An ode to Kyungsoo's ear piercing.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your skin makes me cry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>how do i even introduce this work? one day i was living peacefully then stumbled upon the unbelievable truth that kyungsoo has an ear piercing, has HAD an ear piercing, and decided, in true aquarius fashion, never to shut up about it. this fic truly was a labor of love as i had to be subject to cooties from how much chanyeol adores kyungsoo. secondhand yearning is so horrible. i hope all of you are healthy and whole.</p><p>title is from radiohead's "creep". chanyeol ver superior &lt;3</p><p>please leave a comment as it brightens up my day!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kyungsoo returns with gauze taped over his earlobe one night. It’s late, most of the members are already asleep. Certainly none are out in the common areas playing video games until early morning anymore, as Junmyeon-hyung has grown militant and cranky in his big age. Chanyeol is still playing games until morning, but quietly now in their shared room. He catches Kyungsoo slowly cracking open the door, tiptoeing in and shimmying out of his puffy jacket. He startles, but does not speak when he sees Chanyeol’s face illuminated by the screen of his brand new gaming console.</p><p>“You’re back,” Chanyeol whispers, careful not to wake Jongin. Kyungsoo nods and walks past Chanyeol to climb into the top bunk. He smells faintly of soju. “What’s up with your ear?”</p><p>Kyungsoo doesn’t reply.</p><p>The gauze is gone by morning. Kyungsoo’s earlobe looks a little red, but it’s nothing Chanyeol classifies as out of the ordinary. Kyungsoo must’ve just come from solving a hard case of whiskey dick, and is embarrassed now, even if he smelled like soju last night, not whiskey. It happens, and being idols gives little leeway for orgasms in general; they learn to take what they can get. Chanyeol tries to lighten the mood by shoving spoonful after spoonful of soggy cereal in his mouth, watching Kyungsoo’s mouth twist in an effort not to chastise him. Chanyeol just grins widely at him, his mouth full and messy with milk. Kyungsoo flicks a toothpick right at his forehead.</p><hr/><p>There was really no way that Chanyeol would miss the detail. The small puncture, perfectly nondescript, sitting at the centerpoint of Kyungsoo’s earlobe. Kyungsoo has certainly gone out of way to keep it a secret; he never wagers to actually <em>wear</em> something in it, and the other members probably don’t stare at Kyungsoo’s earlobes to notice such a thing. Or stare at Kyungsoo to the degree that Chanyeol does. Which is a perfectly normal amount, Chanyeol would argue, for someone who cares about his best friend. Chanyeol decides, purely on his own, that this new development is something to be discussed.</p><p>“So,” Chanyeol starts, when they finally find respite after dance practice. Both of them are huddled in one corner of the practice room, not within earshot of the rest. The distance is probably overkill, considering how Baekhyun is doing a passionate imitation medley of their sunbaes on the other side of the room, and how loudly he does it. “Who were you out with last week? When you got back late.”</p><p>“Hyunsik,” Kyungsoo replies, rubbing a towel over his head. “A couple other friends from Baekseok too.”</p><p>“Must’ve been something,” Chanyeol muses, hoping Kyungsoo would fill the gaps in the conversation. Kyungsoo just hums, and well. That was expected. Maybe he needs to be more blunt. “And the ear? Deciding to go goth a few comebacks too late?” Kyungsoo meets him with a questioning furrow of his brow. “With all the black and the, the piercing.”</p><p>Kyungsoo brings his palm up to his right ear, the towel he had used to wipe his sweat falling to the floor. “How did you know?” Kyungsoo hisses, what’s visible of his ear now a bright red.</p><p>Chanyeol shrugs, “I just noticed. It’s – well, it’s sexy right? Some fans might be into it if you wore something in it.” It takes a considerable amount of effort not to pout when he continues. “Were you trying to keep it from me? Why, because I wouldn’t get it?” Chanyeol hates how his voice sounds right now, too small, a step from cracking like he’s an adolescent and not almost mid-20s. <em>Did you think I wouldn’t notice?</em> hangs between his words.</p><p>“There’s nothing to get,” Kyungsoo mumbles, his eyes darting to where the rest of EXO is. “I was drunk, and it was a dare. Hyunsik –” Chanyeol can’t bring himself to admit why his blood heats up at the mention of his name.</p><p>“Whatever,” he spits out, standing. “I’m going.”</p><p>He shuts the door behind him, the metal bottom of the sliding mechanism grating shrilly at the sudden movement. Chanyeol can hear Baekhyun’s voice from the other side. “Yah, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol was on cleanup. What happened?” Kyungsoo’s reply is indistinguishable, like everything else. Kyungsoo doesn’t follow him.</p><p>Honesty would take form in betrayal. Kyungsoo had been the person Chanyeol had told in length about his aspirations for a more alternative look than what SM envisions for their clean cut group. He’d once admitted in a waiting room game of truth or dare that he wanted to try getting some tattoos, maybe a piercing or two himself, but had been too scared of the blowback and the very likely drop in individual popularity it would bring, that he’d quickly added <em>haha, kidding</em> at the end of his thought.</p><p><em>Chanyeol-oppa~</em> his fans would write on their fanpage, <em>please never change!! ✰✰</em></p><p>Of course Chanyeol would be the type to internalize that. He’s always cared too much. But Kyungsoo did it on a drunken whim and a dare, and it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. He’s almost dismissive of it, like it’s nobody’s business, like introducing a new hole in your body isn’t a permanent, defining thing. Kyungsoo is so well-adjusted. Chanyeol sometimes feels like he can’t take a piss without permission. Honesty is pathetic.</p><p>He doesn’t go back to the dorm, instead taking a taxi to his parent’s place. On the way, he texts his manager, and sends another text to EXO’s KKT group. His mom ushers him inside with the promise of warm soup; he must’ve been chilly standing in front of the door for so long, Kyungsoo didn’t come with you?</p><p>Chanyeol keeps silent apart from the automatic thanks, and he loves his mom, really, for not pressing the issue.</p><hr/><p>The door to their room is cracked slightly open. The warm white hallway light cuts a diagonal line across the room, and it shouldn’t bother Chanyeol so much, but there’s a heavy weight pressing down on him; there are lips tracing the cut of his jaw. His hands find their way to this person’s waist to pull them off, but their face comes to view, and it’s—it’s Kyungsoo, with his dark hair falling into his eyes. Something glints as it catches the light by his ear, and it registers that it’s a simple stud earring, silver and shiny, completely Kyungsoo’s taste.</p><p>“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo murmurs, and now Chanyeol can’t think or see past Kyungsoo’s lips, bitten red—did he do that? Why can’t he remember? “Chanyeol-ah, can I taste you?”</p><p>Before he can reply, there are fingers crawling under his shirt, pushing it up to his collarbones, and Kyungsoo’s head ducks down again, lips soft and spit-cool on his warm skin. He leaves small kisses all over his chest, and Chanyeol’s embarrassed, like he’s on the receiving end of second base for the first time — Kyungsoo keeps kissing his tits and it feels <em>good</em>. He thinks there can’t be anything better than this, until Kyungsoo purses his lips to blow softly at the skin he’s left slick with spit, then his tongue darts out to <em>lick his nipple</em>, and something smooth hits the sensitive skin, a few notches cooler than the rest of Kyungsoo’s tongue. Chanyeol realizes slowly as he watches it circle the nub, that it’s <em>another fucking piercing</em>—</p><p>Chanyeol wakes up, sweaty and alone in his bed. It’s still dark out. The digital clock at his bedside informs him that it’s 3:34 in blaring red. Fuck, he’s so hard. He chances a glance at Jongin’s bed – he’s fast asleep. There’s no sign of Kyungsoo, nor is there a sign of No Kyungsoo at the top bunk. Chanyeol can’t really crane his neck for a better vantage point unless he stands, and he doesn’t want to risk Kyungsoo actually being awake and seeing Chanyeol creepily staring at him. Especially since they’re not talking. Kyungsoo’s phone is plugged though, which is a good sign since he rarely goes anywhere without it, so Chanyeol surmises that Kyungsoo is in bed, if not asleep.</p><p>Rising quietly, he sheds the blanket from his legs and swings to plant his feet on the cold tile. He walks toward the door, guides it so that it doesn’t make any sound. Chanyeol is proud to say he’s honed this skill into art; Yoora had not once caught him when he would sneak out to their backyard to feed wayward animals. Chanyeol waddles toward the bathroom. Before he can place his hand on the knob, the door opens to Kyungsoo on the other side, a cylindrical container of cotton buds and saline solution delicately held in one of his hands. His lips look puffy from sleep, and he probably woke up a few moments before Chanyeol did to take care of his piercing. Chanyeol flushes, angles his back parallel to the sides of the doorframe to slip inside the bathroom and gently push Kyungsoo out before he closes the door and double locks it.</p><p>Chanyeol opens the shower, ramps the heat up as far as it can go without giving him actual burns, and takes a hold of his dick almost as quickly as he can step in. Kyungsoo blinking up at him at the doorway should have deterred him from this, maybe even flagged his boner a bit, but he’s still harder than he can ever remember in his life. Chanyeol mourns the death of his sense of shame as he watches the shower wash away his spunk a whopping 8 minutes later. At least he was quiet about it.</p><hr/><p>Preparations for this year’s comeback-slash-album are starting. The work keeps everyone busy enough that no one comments on the awkward distance between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, or the fact that they sit a seat apart from each other at dinners or meetings, and don’t interact beyond the clipped hello. Despite this, Chanyeol can feel Kyungsoo’s eyes burning a hole at the back of his already tattered tee as Chanyeol goes over the choreography for their title track with Sehun.</p><p>Sehun is a good kid, really, but Chanyeol feels like shit when he can feel him get tired of repeating the same step for the 10<sup>th</sup> time because Chanyeol still can’t get it right. After two more tries, he just mumbles, “Thanks, Sehun. I think I got it now.” Sehun’s expression tells him that he decidedly has not, but the relief in his eyes shines through still. Chanyeol moves to the far side of the practice room to practice on his own until the rest have called it a day.</p><p>He trips over the dance point, and instead of tumbling to his arms and knees like he’s done for the last few hours, he feels hands steadying him over his shirt, a voice softly going, “no, no, like this.” Kyungsoo corrects the angle of his arms, uses his feet to change Chanyeol’s stance. Chanyeol freezes. Kyungsoo must sense it too, because his hands fall to his side quickly, his head bowed so the cap he has on shadows the upper half of his face, but his mouth is set tight, a brief flash of teeth worrying his bottom lip, and he says, “sorry, nevermind.”</p><p>Kyungsoo shuffles a few paces back. His right hand moves to grasp his left wrist, an ingrained habit from their courtesies class, then sliding past to wring both of his hands. Kyungsoo beats him at speaking. “I don’t know what it is you want from me.” Kyungsoo sounds almost as small as he physically is. Chanyeol can’t help but feel rotten about it.</p><p>What does Chanyeol want from Kyungsoo? The easy yet impossible answer of <em>everything</em> echoes in his mind. Kyungsoo bears his silence for an excruciating minute. He sighs, then turns to leave. Chanyeol’s body moves faster than his brain, because the next thing he registers is the warmth of Kyungsoo’s wrist in his closed palm. Chanyeol stares at it for a baffling moment, then another, until he moves his eyes up to Kyungsoo’s face, unshadowed now since he’s staring up at Chanyeol. Kyungsoo’s wrist is so slender. Chanyeol doesn’t realize he says this out loud until Kyungsoo grimaces, tries to pull away. He tightens his grip then, and Kyungsoo tenses, his mouth open on an aborted breath. Chanyeol wants to bite the swell of his lower lip, wants to taste Kyungsoo’s tongue. Chanyeol wants too much.</p><p>“Wait,” Chanyeol says. <em>I have something to say</em>, he means. Kyungsoo stops trying to move away, and Chanyeol slackens his grip. Kyungsoo presses his lips together, looks put out. There’s a faint flush on his cheeks. “Why?”</p><p>“Why what?” Kyungsoo huffs. Chanyeol stares pointedly at the puncture on Kyungsoo’s right ear. Kyungsoo shakes his hand free, rubs at where Chanyeol’s grip had rendered the skin pink. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. I don’t know what you’re asking me, exactly.”</p><p><em>Why did you do it, why wasn’t it with me, why did it have to be with Lim Hyunsik, why didn’t you tell me— </em>Chanyeol laughs hollowly. Every single question seems more pathetic than the last. And it doesn’t matter. “Okay,” he says, the air rushing between the chasm in his chest. “Okay. You’re right, you don’t owe me shit.” He doesn’t mean it to come out sounding so bitter, what a shitty way to almost confess. His feelings are nebulous, heavy like summer rain and its smell on hot asphalt. He doesn’t mean to burden Kyungsoo with his emotion.</p><p>“Wrestle with me.”</p><p>“No,” Chanyeol replies shortly. “I don’t want to.”</p><p>“Do it,” Kyungsoo goads, and now he’s the one with his hands on Chanyeol, his small hands pushing at his arm, his shoulder. Kyungsoo grabs Chanyeol’s arm to make Chanyeol face him. “You’re upset at me, so do it. Hit me.”</p><p>“I said I don’t want to!” Chanyeol shakes himself free from the grip, what the <em>fuck</em>, why ask him to play wrestle right now—and Kyungsoo stumbles back, his steps heavy and loud as he rights himself.</p><p>There’s a second of suspended disbelief, before Kyungsoo tackles Chanyeol, tries to take advantage of Chanyeol’s tiny center of gravity. He wraps an arm around Chanyeol’s waist, and tries to make him fall by bending backward and sweeping one of Chanyeol’s legs down, something he's learned for a role most likely. Chanyeol avoids the sweep, uses the arm around his waist to maneuver Kyungsoo to his front, his arms looping under Kyungsoo’s armpits to lock at the back of his head. Kyungsoo twists, Chanyeol’s headlock isn’t too effective with how gangly and long his arms are, and places one of his legs behind Chanyeol’s to bend his knee and throw him off balance.</p><p>They fall to the floor, chest heaving with exertion. Kyungsoo’s back is pressed on Chanyeol’s chest, his arm splayed on either side of Chanyeol. Kyungsoo maintains his spot for a moment, then moves to plop down on Chanyeol’s right. Chanyeol’s heavy breaths turn into hiccupping laughter, relief lapping at his chest like gentle waves. He can’t have everything he wants, but at least things don’t have to change. Kyungsoo joins in on the laughter too, the breathless type that he has when he doesn’t bother to hide it, the kind that scrunches up his whole face and makes him raise his shoulders close to his ears. Chanyeol tamps down the urge to turn his head to watch.</p><p>“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Kyungsoo says, after they’ve both calmed down. “I don’t want to avoid you anymore, Chanyeol.”</p><p>“Okay,” says Chanyeol as he stands. He offers a hand to help Kyungsoo up. Kyungsoo’s grip is loose, making him slip, and Chanyeol tightens his grip in time to save him. Kyungsoo bites his lip, folds his fingers to a fist, his fingernails digging crescents into his palm. “Thanks,” he mumbles.</p><hr/><p>The next day is given to them as free time, their managers dropping by at noon only to tell them to enjoy their day off and leave nine portions of jjajangmyeon. Jongin’s decided to hang out with his friends today. A whole day at the beach, he says. His bear-shaped lifesaver is already filled in and tucked under his arm. Kyungsoo nods, quiet like he’s known. The rest of the members have similarly formed last-minute plans, all of them shuffling out of the dorm by 3 in the afternoon.</p><p>“Be safe,” Chanyeol echoes as the door shuts, the taste of sweet and sour pork still lingering on his lips. He turns to Kyungsoo, who’s picking at his shirt. “Why are we the only ones who didn’t know about the day off?”</p><p>Kyungsoo levels him with a calm stare. “I knew about it.” He stretches his arm out behind him. He lets out a breath through his teeth. “The managers told us over dinner last week.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you make plans? Hyunsik and the others not free?” Kyungsoo shakes his head.</p><p>“Chanyeol,” he says slowly. “This is my plan for the day.”</p><p>Chanyeol swallows. He licks his lips, self-conscious now, and feels his heart rate pick up when he sees Kyungsoo follow the movement.</p><p>“Ask me again,” Kyungsoo says. “Your question last night, ask me again.”</p><p>“Why did you, why, um.” He’s stammering. Which one of the questions does he want to ask first? Which one is less telling? “Why don’t you wear anything on it?”</p><p>Kyungsoo shakes his head again. “That’s not the point of it.”</p><p>“Then what is?” Kyungsoo doesn’t answer. Instead, he pushes his chair back, walks over to their room. When Chanyeol follows, Kyungsoo is on his bed. He sits down, too close, but it’s awkward to shuffle back. Kyungsoo said he doesn’t want to avoid him anymore. Chanyeol shouldn’t move away. “Wrap your palm around my arm, and tighten your grip,” Kyungsoo instructs. “Harder,” he says when Chanyeol finally does. “I’m not going to break. You can do better than that.”</p><p>Chanyeol tightens his hand, amazed at the opportunity to touch, that Kyungsoo is telling him to. It must hurt, because he can see the pale depression of Kyungsoo’s skin around the perimeter of his palm. He looks up to see Kyungsoo to see his cheeks pink again, his mouth open on quick, hitching breaths. His lips are ruddy, his bottom lip forming a heavy curve where it rests. Chanyeol tries to list his observations down like basic truths. Kyungsoo’s eyes are shut, his lips are so full. Chanyeol wants to kiss him, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. He lets go.</p><p>Kyungsoo blinks his eyes open, his pupils blown wide, and he flexes his hand.</p><p>“You didn’t answer me,” Chanyeol says, his voice shaking. He can’t stop looking at Kyungsoo’s lips, can’t shake the memory of the warm press of them on his skin from his dream.</p><p>“It’s not about what I wear on it,” Kyungsoo explains, sotto voce. Chanyeol doesn’t need to strain to hear him. He’s always paid too much attention. “I like the pain. Hyunsik has more, he said they hurt, and I told them I like it when things hurt, so they dared me to get one and I did.”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain why—”</p><p>“Why I didn’t tell you,” Kyungsoo finishes. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” Misplaced pride blooms in Chanyeol’s chest. Noticing something Kyungsoo wanted to be secret shouldn’t be a prize, facts about Kyungsoo’s life isn’t some sort of treasure hunt, despite what fans would like to believe. It doesn’t justify the possessive streak running through Chanyeol’s veins. But Kyungsoo twists to face him, and he doesn’t look mad or disgusted, and Chanyeol has nowhere to go or hide, nowhere he <em>wants</em> to be other than here, pinned in place by Kyungsoo’s appraisal. It’s like Kyungsoo can hear the mess inside his brain when he says, “But I like it when you do. I like it when you hold on to me.”</p><p>Kyungsoo leans forward to let their lips touch. Chanyeol’s mouth blossoms on a whimper under the soft pressure of Kyungsoo’s lips, hands finding and closing over the soft material of Kyungsoo’s black shirt. He shakes as he feels the dizzying wet heat of Kyungsoo’s tongue tracing the seam of his lips. When Kyungsoo tires of the awkward angle, he slings a leg over Chanyeol’s lap, letting Chanyeol take the unbelievable weight of him, the small but dirty grind of his hips forward and over Chanyeol’s crotch.</p><p>Oh, Chanyeol thinks, I’m hard; distant, like his body isn’t his own, and it’s a good thing that Kyungsoo has decided to sit on him (there’s another thought), because otherwise he might float away.</p><p>Kyungsoo grunts when Chanyeol’s hand drifts upward, to the short but growing hair at the nape of his neck to tug helplessly at it, his nails scratching at the surface of Kyungsoo’s scalp.</p><p>“That’s good,” Kyungsoo murmurs against Chanyeol’s gasping mouth. “That’s good, Chanyeol. You’re so good.”</p><p>Chanyeol tenses at the praise, accidentally bites down on Kyungsoo’s lower lip, and it’s Kyungsoo’s turn to moan, the sound of it lighting Chanyeol up from the inside. He grinds down harder, pulls at Chanyeol’s Radiohead sweater, his cold hands quickly finding Chanyeol’s nipples. Chanyeol squirms, breaks away from the kiss to bite his lip. Kyungsoo cups the fullness of his pec with purpose now, his thumbs flicking the nubs and gaining warmth. “Is this good?” he asks, quietly. “Does it feel good? Do you want me to touch you here?” His breath is hot against the sweaty skin of Chanyeol’s neck as he mouths at Chanyeol’s jaw.</p><p>Kyungsoo was playing with his tits back in his dream too, but it’s better, so much better now that it’s real. He nods, and Kyungsoo perks up, the edge of his blunt fingernails digging slightly into his nipples, pinching just the slightest bit, and Chanyeol bucks up; can’t stop it when he whines, a low, hurt sound.</p><p>Their conversation prior still stands out against the white haze of pleasure. Kyungsoo likes pain. He likes being manhandled. As much as Chanyeol wants to continue where this is going, where Kyungsoo presses his buttons and asks him in that low voice if it’s good, to take what Chanyeol allows, he feels slightly selfish. What if it’s not as good for Kyungsoo to take the reins? Maybe Kyungsoo doesn’t want to top? But Chanyeol <em>wants</em>—</p><p>Chanyeol nudges slightly at Kyungsoo’s shoulder, making him look up from Chanyeol’s chest. “Hold on,” Chanyeol says, not even trying to look away from Kyungsoo’s lips, and how arousal paints his full cheeks such a pretty bright red. “Let me—” He flips them over, so Kyungsoo is flat on his back, the sheets framing him like he’s some Renaissance painter’s wet dream. Chanyeol tugs his sweater and this thin shirt off, if just to spare himself a moment from the dizzying image Kyungsoo paints on his bed.</p><p>When he’s got them all the way off, Kyungsoo is looking at him, pupils blown wide and mouth parted enough to see the wet pink of his tongue peeking through. Kyungsoo sits up a bit to put his hands on Chanyeol’s waist to pull him closer.</p><p>"You gonna ride me?" Kyungsoo asks, and Chanyeol's brain freezes for what feels like the tenth time in 30 minutes.</p><p>"You want that?" Chanyeol breathes, hopes the relief isn't too obvious in his voice.</p><p>“I want it however you feel comfortable with,” Kyungsoo replies easily. “I wanna give you what you want.”</p><p>They end up with Chanyeol on his hands and knees, his forearms bracing him up while Kyungsoo runs a hand over his cheeks. Kyungsoo’s already got his fingers slick with lube, rubbing them lightly over Chanyeol’s hole. He muffles his moans with his forearms, his face feels hot, gets even hotter when Kyungsoo says, “You’re so sweet. You’re so sweet like this, Chanyeol, you this sweet for anyone else?”</p><p>He doesn’t even give Chanyeol the time to answer, not when he teases a finger in, so slow that it shouldn’t even be anything, not with how generous Kyungsoo was with the lube, but it feels like too much. He doesn’t think he’ll last long enough to get more of Kyungsoo’s fingers with his words until he’s stretched open with three, a fourth teasing in, and he’s sobbing from the constant pressure on his prostate. His dick hangs heavy between his spread legs, and Kyungsoo hasn’t made a move to touch it yet, except to fondle his balls a bit.</p><p>“Wait,” Chanyeol manages to say, and Kyungsoo decelerates, his fingers slowing to a steady rhythm to allow Chanyeol to think. “Kyungsoo, I want to see you.”</p><p>Kyungsoo hums in assent, slowly pulls his fingers out, kissing Chanyeol’s back as he does, sweet as ever, so careful with him. He guides Chanyeol, who feels more like clumsy limbs than something human, to lie on his back. Kyungsoo’s eyes are so intense, like they get when he wants to get something right, like when he’s trying to push harder during vocal training, and he looks down at Chanyeol like Chanyeol is something desirable, desired. “What do you want?” he asks, breathless too. </p><p>“You,” Chanyeol says, the first easy word to come out of his mouth the whole day. “Inside.”</p><p>Now Kyungsoo falters, that dumb expression where his nostrils flare and his mouth goes slack when he’s thinking about something dirty on broadcast filling his face. “Yah,” Chanyeol mumbles, swatting Kyungsoo’s shoulder lightly. “Aren’t you gonna get on with it?”</p><p>Kyungsoo wets his lips. “Yeah,” he says, patting behind him for the condom that they’d brought out with the lube. “Yeah, of course, anything you want.”</p><p>The tip of Kyungsoo’s dick breaches in, and there’s something to be said about how Chanyeol’s body gives in, gives way, despite his doubts, like the question of them fitting together wasn’t even one worth asking. Kyungsoo groans, his mouth open on Chanyeol’s pec, breath hot and wet where it touches his skin. He pushes in, and they really did use too much lube, it feels like every inch Kyungsoo presses in forces some of it out. He feels so wet inside, and the sound of it is so loud in the small room.</p><p>“Is it, is it good for you,” Chanyeol breathes, drunk on the weight of Kyungsoo on him, the way Kyungsoo’s toned stomach is rubbing over the underside of his dick, so wet now that there’s no friction at all, only the pleasurable sensation of skin on skin.</p><p>“How can you even ask that,” Kyungsoo strains, thrusting shallowly. “Of course it’s good for me, Chanyeol, you’re so tight—<em>fuck</em>.”</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t even register his nails scraping down Kyungsoo’s back. He tries it again and Kyungsoo buries himself deeper, fucks in sloppier. The tip brushes over his prostate, the barest of pressures, and Chanyeol’s back arches lean, rutting down on Kyungsoo’s dick, trying to chase that feeling. Kyungsoo mouths at Chanyeol’s nipples now, tongue pressing firmly down, then flicking a few times at the nub. Kyungsoo flicks his gaze up to where Chanyeol is staring, making sure to close his red lips over the skin and suck harshly, still moving his hips in and in. Chanyeol drags his fingers up Kyungsoo’s spine then tugs at his hair. Kyungsoo’s balls deep now and stays there, his hips flush on the back of Chanyeol’s thighs, moaning. Chanyeol will never tire of the sound.</p><p>“Want you to come first,” Chanyeol slurs, petting Kyungsoo’s hair until Kyungsoo grinds in hard. Chanyeol’s nails dig into Kyungsoo’s scalp when he pulls at the strands. “Wanna know it’s good for you too.” Kyungsoo groans while Chanyeol squeezes around him.</p><p>When Kyungsoo comes, he’s not heard more than felt; he grinds his hips in deep, his breath stuttering, droplets of sweat slip from the smooth slope of his nose, falling like cool rain on Chanyeol’s warm skin. Like this, it’s hard for them to kiss. Kyungsoo can’t stretch out far enough to go past the tense line of Chanyeol’s neck — has committed to burying his face at the junction of Chanyeol’s neck and shoulder while he pants. It’s hard for them to kiss, but Chanyeol wants it all the same; is afraid of loosening his lips and asking for more ridiculous, outrageous things, like <em>stay inside me a little longer</em> or <em>be my boyfriend</em>. </p><p>Inevitably, Kyungsoo pulls out as Chanyeol chooses not to speak, disappearing from Chanyeol’s side for a while to dispose of the condom. Chanyeol gets some of what he wants anyway, when Kyungsoo presses his lips against his, when he pushes his tongue in and curls it upward to brush against Chanyeol’s palate. The pleased hum Chanyeol makes is undercut by the rough heat of Kyungsoo’s palm wrapping around the base of his cock.</p><p>Kyungsoo’s hands are different now, calluses from weight training for his new role made his palms rougher, a stark difference from when they were kids and first introduced at a street food cart outside SM’s old building. Kyungsoo’s voice is different too, from then and even from a few minutes ago, when he grates out, “Come on, Chanyeol, come.” It takes very little to get him there. He whimpers as he spills over Kyungsoo’s hand, lies limp as he tries to catch his breath.</p><p>Kyungsoo turns his head, wiggles around a bit so his cheek is squished on Chanyeol’s chest, the softness there cut by the edge of Chanyeol’s collarbone. Chanyeol’s vow of silence ends quickly when he breathes out, “I like you so much.”</p><p>Kyungsoo’s eyes flick up to meet Chanyeol’s panicked gaze. Kyungsoo smiles at him, a soft, teasing thing. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” Chanyeol pushes him off half-heartedly, turning to face away from Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo just snuggles close, presses a small kiss at Chanyeol’s shoulder. “I like you too, if it wasn’t clear already.”</p><hr/><p>Kyungsoo is lying beside him again, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the ink marked on his forearm. It tickles a little, but Chanyeol keeps mum, or has to, since he’s in recovery for his vocal nodule surgery. He thinks Kyungsoo likes this development more than he lets on, because he’s now more prone to saying things of which Chanyeol would usually refute, like inherently wrong opinions on games or movie lore, but recently it’s taken a turn toward actual health risks, as Kyungsoo has gotten bolder in voicing out his affection, without any regard for the state of Chanyeol’s poor heart.</p><p>Chanyeol can almost feel it coming when Kyungsoo trails his fingers down his arm, to his very first tattoo; his producer name on the inside of his middle finger. Kyungsoo had gone with him that first time, held his other hand while he winced, and distracted him with truly obsolete memes that he had gotten from his actor groupchat. The tattoo had been a testament to his vision of his career moving forward, how he wants to be known in the larger music scene, and getting it with Kyungsoo somehow made the most sense. Being with Kyungsoo makes the most sense, even now.</p><p>“You’re gorgeous,” Kyungsoo says, calm and steadfast as always. Chanyeol pushes him off the bed where Kyungsoo laughs, and Chanyeol doesn’t have to hide it anymore. He stares as much as he wants, and doesn’t look away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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